Dirty Day
by Sare Liz
Summary: It had been a stupid idea – a whim of his, and he’d acted on it because he could, for the first time in what felt like forever. A whim – what a stellar reason, really top shelf, Severus. HG/SS
1. Drabbles

**Title**: Dirty Day  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Disclaimer**: Does not belong to me.  
**Rating**: light R for honest discussions of sex between consenting adults, and a bit of swearing.  
**Pairing**: SS/HG  
**Continuity**: For the next seven days, it's not an AU. After July 21, 2007, it might be. I don't think Severus is OOC, because I think that any and everyone is capable of redemption and personal growth. Perhaps it's the priest in me. It leaks out at the oddest times.

**Inspiration**: U2's Dirty Day [Junk Day Remix]. It's just brilliant.  
**Author's Note**: So.

I was on vacation with Frannie, right? Right. And then her bishop dies. Cancel vacation, drive back to the U.P. with her. Since I can't drive stick, I'm reading HP:OOP, out loud, in character, with appropriate british accents and angsty yelling at the top of my lungs – I had no real concept of just how much Harry yells in the first half of that book. 14.5 hours later and we're only halfway through. Crazy.

So, a lot has to happen when your boss dies suddenly, ditto a bishop, and when it's both, it's crazy. I spent some quality time alone, which was good for this little introvert. And during that time, I wrote this.

It started out as a writing exercise, since i hadn't been writing much lately. I grabbed my playlist called 'Severus' and decided i'd write a drabble to each song.

I only got as far as the first song, mainly because I wrote a drabble for every two lines.

Literally.

There are fourteen drabbles. And then, I just kept writing. So, here's the fourteen drabbles. More to come.

Please note each drabble has it's own title.

* * *

**Title: His Little Helper**

_I don't know you,  
But you don't know the half of it…_

She paused from her work. The red ink had really held a thrill for her at first, but she got over that pretty quickly. She'd never quite meet his standards, at least not his spoken ones, but she deeply suspected that he was grateful for the respite. At least, grading the first years' papers had been his addition to her contract, not the Headmistress'.

_Still_, she thought, chewing pensively on the quill, mind on her mentor. There was something going on with him, and she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Those were both odd things, and worth further thought.

**

* * *

Title: Taking the Internship**

_I had a starring role  
As the bad guy who walked out_

"Don't you care where he went? Don't you care why? Don't you care what he's done, for Christ's sake? God, Hermione, you've really gone to the dogs. You're letting your hormones lead instead you instead of the good sense you've always shown…"

The words had been echoing in her head since they'd been uttered. It was hard to ignore the impact of them on her, particularly since she wasn't aware her hormones had been voting. Her fingers wrapped around the tea cup as she took a deep breath. She needed a bit of wise counsel – she was uncharacteristically confused.

"Mum…"

**

* * *

Title: They Said, 'Get a life! Live a little!'**

_They say be careful where you aim  
Cause where you aim, you just might hit_

It had been a stupid idea – a whim of his, and he'd acted on it because he could, for the first time in what felt like forever. A whim – what a stellar reason, really top shelf, Severus.

He'd be nice, or the closest approximation he could manage. He'd talk. He'd share. He'd be amicable because on a whim he decided to make a friend, and see what happened. Well, he saw. He saw it in the mirror – a heart he didn't know he had, bleeding out his eyes all because she was out with her boyfriend, tonight.

Idiot.

**

* * *

Title: Mr. Wrong**

_You hold onto something so tight  
You've already lost it_

He could imagine her being crushed, like the flower in his hand. He knew full well that it took skill, and perhaps even talent to create an enduring relationship of the sort he wished, if you weren't willing to use the Imperius Curse. He knew he didn't have the skill, he suspected he didn't have the talent, and he imagined that she wouldn't wait around during his learning curve, which he thought would be considerable.

Well, there was one thing he could give her, that he knew. He couldn't be her perfect man, but he could be her perfect fuck.

**

* * *

Title: Mr. Right**

_Dragging me down,  
That's not the way it used to be_

"What's wrong with you tonight?"

"Nothing, Eric," she said, trying to placate his surprisingly hostile tone. She'd rather placate just at the moment, because she wasn't actually sure what was wrong with her – but she refused to lie to herself, though she'd lie to him. And apparently, Eric had noticed as well. His tried and true motto, "nothing sex can't cure" had finally proved false.

Maybe, though… Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe it was him. She looked at Eric, and for the first time was less than fully impressed.

How sad. Her mother had really liked this one, too.

**

* * *

Title: The Disillusionment Spell**

_You can't even remember  
What I'm trying to forget_

He thought she was sitting for chemistry and maths. He thought she'd gone to a swank boarding school in Scotland. He thought she had a flat with her best mates here in London, through it threw him off that her best mates were boys. He thought she was a bird lover, with her owl. He thought a lot of things, her sweet American _muggle_ boyfriend.

He thought her nightmares were just nightmares. He thought her scars were from a fishing accident. He thought 'The War' was in the Middle East.

And for a while she'd thought that would be okay.

**

* * *

Title: Do Bastards Have Hearts?**

_It was a dirty day,  
A dirty day_

His satisfaction felt altogether familiar. He had gained at someone else's loss. And yet, he could not bring himself to feel even the slightest amount of guilt over the prospect of the dear sweet American boy's turmoil.

Now, Hermione was another matter entirely. That she was here in his study ranting over their shared firewhiskey was something quite notable – he was making significant progress, though in which specific direction he wasn't as clear. But, too, she was angry and in pain. That he loved less.

Still, the alcohol made him mellower. He'd deal with tricky emotions in the morning.

**

* * *

Title: Wet Dream Walking**

_You're looking for explanations  
But I don't even understand._

The kiss was on fire. And it tasted strongly of Old Ogden's, 1956.

She groaned his name as his lips trailed down her throat, but whined when he stopped. Ten minutes later she was asleep in the chair. He didn't dare try to bring her back to her own rooms, rather he transfigured the chair into a large and squashy chaise and fetched blankets to keep her warm. He set some headache potion and a glass of water at the table next to her before he stumbled off to his own bed, his own dreams. Sleep came quickly that night.

**

* * *

Title: The Morning After**

_If you need someone to blame  
Throw a rock in the air, you'll hit someone guilty_

"I'm listening, Severus. I'm listening for your very convincing explanation."

"My assistant and I have become friends, Headmistress. We were sharing a firewhiskey in my study and she was describing some frustrations of hers concerning a topic dear to her. She imbibed a bit too much, I believe, and she passed out. I did not have the heart to move her, and so made her comfortable and left her to it."

"And so, you have absolutely no designs whatsoever on Ms. Granger?"

Severus' breathing paused momentarily – lying was not an option, and yet the truth was so inconvenient…

**

* * *

Title: Reading the Wrong Parchment**

_Get it right:  
There's no blood thicker than it_

He'd seen the signs – he may never have participated in it himself, but that didn't mean he wasn't an observant man. Silly students and sillier wizards falling ballocks over brains in… in, well, in _craving_ with some delectable little morsel with whom they have absolutely shite in common. After two months, perhaps four – maybe even eight, all the things that attracted them were the very things that repulse the poor bastards.

It wouldn't happen. He wouldn't do it. They could, perhaps, be friends with benefits, but he steadfastly refused to _lose_ his friend, no matter how he presently felt.

**

* * *

Title: More Tea**

_Hear what I say,  
Nothing's as simple as you think_

"We're friends."

"Are you joking?"

"No, really. We're just friends. I mean, not in that way. I'm not trying to cover up anything. He can be quite a nice fellow, if he decides to be."

"He can certainly be a right bastard when he decides to be."

"True. I've talked to him about that. He says he enjoys it too much to ever let it go."

"Hm."

"What d'you mean, 'Hm?'"

"What about Eric?"

"Muggle. Too complicated. Couldn't do it."

"Hm."

"I like him. He's a sharp wit and a brilliant mind."

"And darkly sexy, if I remember correctly."

"Mum!"

**

* * *

Title: The Overheard Whisper**

_WAKE UP!  
There's some things you can't get around_

"She's the Potions Master's girlfriend, isn't she?"

First Eric, then her mother, then Ron of all people, and now random fourth years. This was getting intolerable. They were friends for God's sake! What was so bloody confusing about that?

She needed to talk to Severus, share the ludicrousness of the situation with him. He'd be able to appreciate just how stupid people were being.

Though, there was a knot in the pit of her stomach when she thought of sharing the joke. Her throat went dry at the thought of it. Suddenly the deduction of house points didn't seem to matter.

**

* * *

Title: Loyal, Always**

_I'm in you,  
More so when they put me in the ground_

He flicked a twig at the white marble and watched it bounce off the environmental protection charm.

"Fuck, Albus," the dour man muttered. "How am I supposed to get out of this one?"

He sat on the ground digging his heels into the dirt and thought about his latest conversation with Hermione. He'd said more than he intended.

Long moments passed in the quiet stillness. He could almost see the twinkle in his eye.

"_Why would you want to get out of Love, my dear boy? It's the reason we're here. It's the reason you fought to so hard."_

**

* * *

Title: The End of the Beginning**

_Those days, days, days,  
Run away like horses over the hill_

"Oh, I don't know. We might make a passable couple." He wasn't looking at her, stirring the cauldron, adding the lacewing flies.

"You _can_ be charming and sweet when you so choose."

"You can _occasionally_ neglect your need to be right all the time."

"Somewhere, very deep down, I think you care."

"And it bubbles forth more often that strictly necessary, trust me."

She was right behind him now, close. "And you are wickedly intelligent."

He raised an eyebrow and craned his neck around. "Are you referring to the colloquial sense or the traditional?"

"Both," she grinned, stepping even closer.


	2. The First Day of the Rest of Your Life

Because we love Hermione's mum, this one is from Dr. Granger's point of view. Yay! This one isn't quite the understanding of the character as is seen in Firebolt Ring, but you can't win them all.

Here, tis, the follow up from the 14 drabbles. Is there more? Of course.

**Title**: The First Day of the Rest of Your Life  
**Author**: Sare Liz  
**Disclaimer**: Not mine.  
**Continuity**: continues after the set of drabbles entitled 'Dirty Day'. Is Canon until July 21, 2007, after which it is anyone's guess.  
**Inspiration**: We're still being inspired by U2 at this point. I know, you're all just shocked.  
**Warnings**: None.  
**Pairings**: SS/HG

* * *

"Mum," she said, standing in the foyer of the casual restaurant in Central London, "This is Severus."

"I'm very pleased to see you again. We met very briefly at Hermione's graduation, I believe." She extended her hand and was somewhat taken aback to have it gently taken, bowed over, and kissed. She kept her smirk to herself. It seemed that the good professor was trying to make up for lost time and previous impressions.

"The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Granger."

Before anything further could be said, the three were seated by the hostess, and Dr. Jane Granger was left to ponder the loveliness of his voice. The voice of her daughter's latest boyfriend. Could you call a forty year old man a 'boyfriend'?

Both he and Hermione were 'under the radar' as her daughter put it – they both dressed in a business-casual muggle way. She'd been waiting outside of the restaurant and Jane had watched them approach. They'd been holding hands. He'd been saying something, and Hermione was laughing. It was really quite sweet. And they made quite a striking couple.

"I would have you call me Jane, Severus," she said casually as she perused her menu before quickly selecting her choice. He acknowledged her with a slight inclination of his head, and a murmured word of thanks. He really was quite old fashioned and formal, she thought. Or perhaps that was just a pure-blood wizarding trait. She continued on. "Now, Hermione has told me something of your distinguished and dangerous war service, and I have been, of course, apprized all along concerning your classroom demeanor, but would you tell me something of yourself?"

"Ah. So you know that I am a terror in the classroom and a forgotten hero of the war?" he asked, a small smile on his face.

Jane saw Hermione look anxiously back and forth between them, but she kept her own gaze on her conversation partner. "Yes."

"Well, I am not a pureblood – one of my grandparents was a muggle. All of my close relations are deceased. My life has been a difficult one, up until very recently. In order to maintain my own sanity I threw myself into my work – for the Order, for my classes, and for my potions."

At this, Hermione interrupted, putting down her glass of water. "Severus has been credited with the creation of eighty-seven new potions, and with the alteration and fine tuning of two hundred and thirty-three. That's more than a life's work for most people."

He wasn't blushing, but he certainly looked abashed, glancing down and over at her daughter. He reached over and squeezed her hand as it rested on the table before releasing it, gathering himself back together again and continuing on.

"With the end of the war and the death of Voldemort I have been allowed a measure of freedom in my activities that I had never before known. I have been able to mend and create anew a number of relationships in my life that matter very much to me, true relationships being the foremost thing I denied myself in my work for the Order."

"And this is when you offered Hermione an internship?"

He nodded. "Hermione was by far the best student I'd ever had, the brightest and sharpest witch I'd ever come across before or since in my twenty years of teaching. I knew she was reading for Potions and Arithmancy at the Royal Academie. Internships are hard to come by, and Potions is still a subject dominated by wizards. I suppose you could say that it was my attempt at an apology for having to be such arse to my best student."

Jane was flushed with a deep maternal pride, and was almost overcome by it, except for the phrase that kept ringing in her ears; 'twenty years of teaching.'

"I'm sorry, did you say twenty years?"

"Yes. This year makes twenty-one." He paused and reached out for Hermione's hand, holding on top of the table. As the waitress came and delivered their drinks and took their order, the pause lasted even longer.

"I took the Dark Mark when I was eighteen," he said, now speaking both to Jane and Hermione. "Shortly before I turned nineteen I thought better of my decision and sought refuge with Albus Dumbledore. I joined the Order and taught my first year of Potions when I was nineteen. Albus brought in tutors for my study, which was quick, and I soon became a Master of Potions."

"That is a lot to have happened to someone so young."

"Indeed. And, being young and somewhat full of myself, many of my more important decisions were foolishly made."

After a short silence, Jane asked the question she almost dared not. "Would you permit me to see the tattoo?"

"Of course." To his credit, he barely paused. Jane would have to find out later from Hermione how much it cost him to show her this. She imagined it cost quite a bit, but she did not take it lightly.

He rose from the table and removed his suit jacket, hanging it on the back of his chair and sitting back down again. He slowly unbuttoned his left cuff, then turned his wrist back down, palm facing the table. He slowly rolled the sleeve, once, twice, three times then pushed the cuff the remaining inches up past his elbow as he gently twisted his wrist, revealing the tender inside of his forearm and the faint greenish-black tattoo that took up most of it. It was upside down, from her perspective – clearly the tattoo was placed so that the owner could see it clearly. It was a long frightening looking skull with a snake issuing from its open mouth.

"When activated," he said quietly, "it became a more pronounced black. The snake would writhe, forming the infinity symbol, and quite an intense pain would begin, localized in the mark itself. It acted as something like a living portkey. When activated, anyone with the mark was able to Apparate directly to wherever he was."

Jane held the silence gently. After a moment she looked up at him. "Thank you for allowing me to see it."

He nodded, and covered his mark, buttoning his cuff. Jane noticed that after that, and until the food arrived, Severus and Hermione held hands under the table.

There was some silence then, and Jane could tell that Hermione didn't like it, as she rushed to fill it.

"I'd told Mum already how we, you know, started dating. And that you knew your mind far before I did." Hermione grinned and was at least momentarily unaware of just how uncomfortable she'd just made him, Jane could tell.

Severus was quick to add, "But not that far before you," and then he turned to Jane. "I hope you will not think me capable of any impropriety toward you daughter."

Jane smiled. "No, I don't think that in the least."

His relief was almost palpable, and then the food came.

Jane had her fork full of salad, but held it steady over her plate, really, until just the point that Severus had his mouth full. "But now you mention it, Severus, what are your intentions toward Hermione?"

"Mum!" Hermione cried softly, absolutely scandalized. "You've never asked that of any of my other boyfriends!"

Severus had frozen, but Jane ignored him just for the moment.

"Hermione, dear, there are two very important differences between Severus and all of the other gentlemen that you have dated. First of all, of all the young men you've brought home, none have suited you so well as he does. Secondly, Severus is not in his twenties, trying to figure out what he wants in life, he's forty and I'd be willing to bet he knows exactly what he wants out of life. I haven't asked your previous boyfriends because I hadn't expected them to know the answer. I ask Severus, because I suspect he does know. The larger issue, Hermione," she said, now turning her attention directly to the man in front of her, who she now addressed, "Is whether or not you wish to share your answer."

Her gaze was gentle but insistent as she watched him force down the mouthful of food, and chase it with a drink of the strong black coffee that had been delivered just before their lunch.

"Hermione and I have yet to discuss the future. I know that her education is important to her, as is her future career. It is important to me as well." He paused and fingered his coffee cup. "I had never had the opportunity to dream that I might find a companion to grow old with, or build a family." He looked up in complete candor to meet her eyes. "I never actually thought I'd be growing old, for one thing. I fully intended to die, or spend my remaining years imprisoned. As that seems not to be my destiny, I want as much as I can get: a wife, a family, success in my field, true happiness, and a house in the country. And yet, I am patient. Wizards – and witches – live to significant ages. It is likely, even considering the past I have had, that I will live to see 150 years of age. If Hermione and I decide that it is with each other that we wish to spend the rest of our days, I do not think I could be happier."

"Really?" was Hermione's softly spoken response.

He turned to her. "Really," he responded, just as softly, and was thusly the recipient of a very soft kiss.

Jane smiled and finally took her bite of salad. This one might be a handful, but she approved.

The end.


End file.
